


forced apart (but I'll always be by your side)

by orphan_account



Category: VIXX
Genre: Best Friends, Kenvi - Freeform, M/M, Medieval AU, im sorry, it’s sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 06:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20384827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Wonsik is the future king, and he's determined to rule with his best friend Jaehwan.





	forced apart (but I'll always be by your side)

**Author's Note:**

> hello! so i wrote this when i was 15, and only recently rediscovered it off of my AFF account LOL. I didn’t feel like changing anything, so I just switched some minor character names and fixed some weird sentences. That being said, I was not a writer at age 15 and nor am I now LOL so pls be kind about the english hehe.

"Wonsik-ah," his mother calls fondly with a smile. Wonsik looks up from his wooden horse in wonder. There's a boy standing beside her, and he looks like he's about his own age. 

"Who's that," he asks flatly. He's only ever known so many people other than his parents; Mr. Cho, who tucks him to sleep, Miss Lee, who helps him button his shirt and tickles his nose with her feather duster, and Mrs. Park, who always tells him to sit quietly and learn the alphabet. 

"His name is Jaehwan. He's yours now, you can tell him what to do and do anything with him. He's your birthday present," she smiles, and ruffles his hair. She nods at Jaehwan, who nods back respectfully, and swiftly leaves as the hall echoes with her footsteps on the rich marble floor. 

"Jaehwan?" Wonsik peers closely. A boy is an odd present for a six-year old's birthday, and he doesn't quite understand why he would need him. 

"Yes, master," the boy says, lowering his head slightly. 

"Master? Who's master?" he asks, looking around in disbelief. 

"You, master," Jaehwan says with another lower of his head. 

"Oh," Wonsik says simply. He's never had anybody call him master before, except for the adults in suits and dresses who called him 'little master'. He takes a quick look at Jaehwan again, and realizes that he's looking everywhere but at himself. 

"Why do you keep looking around?" Wonsik asks in confusion. Jaehwan looks startled by the question, and only links his fingers anxiously in response. 

"I'm sorry master. I won't do it again," he replies nervously. Wonsik does not like how the boy acts - not looking at him properly, and apologizing for no reason. His father always told him to be prideful, to look straight in people's eyes and to apologize only when necessary. He said it was to make him more kingly. 

"Can't you look at my eyes? That's not very kingly of you," Wonsik crosses his arms. Jaehwan seems shocked for the hundredth time within ten minutes, and Wonsik gradually lets his annoyance take over. He grabs Jaehwan impatiently by the sleeve. 

"I'll show you around." 

Wonsik shows him everything; his bedroom, his playroom, his three bathrooms, his toy room, his antique room, his small dining table for a midnight snack, his time-out corner, and the library. Jaehwan only seems mildly interested for the whole way, hanging his head low as Wonsik would explain why each room is significant to him. 

"Jae. Hwan," he angrily stomps his feet when he shows him where they keep the harpsichord. Jaehwan looks up in alarm. 

"I’m sorry," he says again. Wonsik's patience has grown thin long ago, and although he's quite good at managing his temper, he fails to maintain it this time. 

"You never look into my eyes! You're always apologizing! I don't like it! Can't you act normally?" he nearly shouts in exasperation. There's a moment of silence before Jaehwan speaks. 

"But master, I'm your slave," Jaehwan says in an unsure tone. 

"You're my what?" Wonsik furrows his eyebrows. 

"Your slave, master," Jaehwan looks equally as confused now. 

"But, you're not a slave?" 

"Yes, I am?" 

"No you're not." 

"Yes I am." 

The pointless argument doesn't last very long, because Wonsik cracks a smile mid-sentence. It catches on to Jaehwan too, and they both fall into ridiculous giggle fits down to the floor. 

"Don't call me master. Just call me Wonsik. Let's be best friends." 

\--

Wonsik finds out that Jaehwan is a year older than him. He learns that Jaehwan's parents were sold and he had nowhere to go, so his parents bought him. Naturally, Wonsik manages to find many ways to fully utilize Jaehwan’s skills over the years. 

"Jaehwan, do my homework," Wonsik whines against old dusty book. 

"For goodness sake, do your own work Wonsik!" Jaehwan exclaims in response. 

"But I'm so tired," Wonsik juts out his lower lip. However, Jaehwan doesn't seem to be affected, and the latter returns the favour with a cute pout. 

"I'm cuter than you. Your tricks will never work," he says sternly, and Wonsik groans. His eyelids are so heavy that he can barely keep his eyes open, reading and understanding the context is near impossible.. 

"Who even cares about what they did in the 1500s. This is the 17th century, nobody even cares about that stuff anymore," he pounds his head against the table. He hears Jaehwan click his tongue in dismay, and puts a hand between Wonsik's forehead and the hard table. Leave it to Jaehwan to care for Wonsik even when he's about to die of boredom. 

"You're not a child anymore, Wonsik. You’re going to be king in a couple years and you need to know everything," he sighs. Wonsik draws his chin back in disgust. 

Wonsik knows he has responsibilities, he knows that his parents are looking for a rich princess for his fiancé, and he knows that he's not in the position to slack off, not now and not ever. 

"Would you sing something for me?" he asks, in hopes Jaehwan will lullaby him to sleep so he doesn't have to read about the history of architecture of castles. 

"I only learned how to read notes a couple days ago, Wonsik," Jaehwan purses his lips. In Wonsik's opinion, Jaehwan's voice is amazing, way better than any of the entertainers out there. He taught him how to read notes, and secretly writes down notes he puts together on the harpsichord and gives them to Jaehwan, telling him it's an old folk song. 

Composition supposedly isn't a kingly virtue, but Wonsik loves listening to Jaehwan sing songs, his own songs, with his soothing, beautiful voice. 

He looks at Jaehwan with pleading eyes, wishing that they are glistening enough for Jaehwan to give in. 

It works, because Jaehwan sighs the next second after. 

"Just one song." 

\--

His father has summoned him to his study; it's important news, Wonsik knows, and he's chewing his lip nervously as he walks to his father's study. 

"Come on, I bet it's about that princess from the town below. Remember, the cute one?" Jaehwan smiles encouragingly. 

"Yea, but she's 12 years old Jaehwan. I don't think she would make a good queen," Wonsik furrows his eyebrows- he hopes he won't get set up with the bratty child, for many obvious reasons. 

"Okay, well, you'll be married. Isn't that exciting?" Jaehwan tries his hardest to ease Wonsik, and it almost works. It almost works, but it doesn't, because when he opens the doors to the study, both his parents sit in the middle of the room in his father's most comfortable, and expensive red velvety chairs. 

Jaehwan's smile disappears, and he bows respectfully. 

"Ah, Jaehwan. Come join us," his father's tone is cold, more direct than usual. Chills run up Wonsik's spine; he can already sense something is not right. 

"Sit down Wonsik," his mother says softly. He sits, and looks over at Jaehwan who is standing carefully beside him. 

"Son, we have news," his father looks unsurely at Jaehwan. Wonsik's hand grabs for Jaehwan's arm instinctively. His father looks surprised at the action, and cracks a small smile. 

"No, no. He may stay," he says. Jaehwan visibly relaxes, as does Wonsik, but he still doesn't let go of his sleeve. 

"Wonsik, we arranged a marriage with you and the princess from the eastern territories," his mother says sharply. Wonsik looks at Jaehwan. He shrugs back, at least it isn't the spoiled 12 year old. 

"And she's moving in. With her servants," she says. Her speech noticeably slows down, but Wonsik doesn't understand why both his parents look so anxious. He knows that he was going to be set up sooner or later, and having his bride move in is something that he has anticipated for over a year. 

"The benefits are great Wonsik, her family is really rich-" 

"We need to get rid of all of our servants," his father interrupts. 

Wonsik remains silent. 

"So? They want to use their servants? Sure. I don't see why we can't use ours," he says. He loves the kitchen cooks. He loves Mr. Cho, he loves Miss Lee, and even Mrs. Park. The thought of getting 'rid' of them, his second family, creates uneasiness to his stomach. 

"That's just how it is Wonsik. I'm sorry," his father curtly says. 

"But, you'll make sure all of them will find a good home," Wonsik furrows his eyebrows. He can't possibly let his family slip from his fingers, just like that. 

"Yes. They're all going to an old friend of mine. They'll be in safe conditions, just as they were here. We promise," his mother smiles weakly. 

"Fine. I'm going to need a personal letterman to deliver messages there though. and they must all be able to send messages back," he announces confidently. It's his right, to know where good friends are at, if they're being treated right, fed enough and given warm enough blankets. 

"Dear, I don't think he understands," his mother whispers. He hears it though, loud and clear, too clear, he wishes he didn't hear it. 

"What do I not understand? That you're giving away my family? I understand well enough. Let's go Jaehwan," he retorts and stands up, storming to the exit. He waits for Jaehwan to run up and open the door for him as per usual, but Jaehwan doesn't come. 

He turns around, and sees that Jaehwan hasn't moved an inch from where he was standing before. 

"Jaehwan. Let's go," he says angrily. Wonsik hates raising his voice, the whole idea of being angry is enough stress for himself. 

"Let's. Go," Jaehwan still doesn't move, and his head hangs low. 

"I'm so sorry Jaehwan. We wanted to keep you, but they insisted to clear everybody out. We promise you can keep in touch with Wonsik, we'll send messengers out once a week," his father says. 

Jaehwan nods, and Wonsik can see him shaking. 

"What do you mean, wanted to keep," Wonsik's eyes dart from his parents to Jaehwan. There can be no way that they're dismissing Jaehwan, he doesn't even count as a servant- 

"They almost cut off the engagement when we refused to give him away." 

Wonsik's at a loss for words, and his mind is completely blank when he rushes to grab Jaehwan's arm and pulls him out of the study to the hall. 

"They're not going to give you away. They can't," Wonsik says. Jaehwan refuses to even look up, Wonsik can tell he's crying. 

"I promise. I'll do anything to keep you here-" 

"That's the problem, Wonsik," Jaehwan whispers hoarsely. 

"I became too attached. That's why it's so hard. I'll start fresh again, fulfill my duties as a slave," he continues. Jaehwan looks up, shifting his gaze to lock with Wonsik's. His eyes were brimmed with tears, some already streaming down his pale face. 

"No, Jaehwan," Wonsik doesn't even know what he's trying to say, but his voice cracks amidst of it and his eyes are quick to fill with tears as well. 

"It's for the better. We're allowed to write to each other too. It can't be that bad," Jaehwan attempts to smile. It's not long until Wonsik's throat can't hold back choked sobs, and his face is red, swollen and ugly within minutes. 

Jaehwan isn't a servant, nothing even close to a slave. He's not Wonsik's property, neither is he his family's. He's kind, generous, patient, amazing and humorous; Jaehwan is a person. An important one, for both him and his parents. 

"It's not.. not fair," he manages to say as he sniffles noisily. Jaehwan takes out a handkerchief and carefully wipes his nose. He feels almost ashamed to look so vulnerable in front of Jaehwan, but he decides he doesn't mind it when Jaehwan timidly wraps his arms around Wonsik's shoulders to bring him in tightly. 

\--

Two weeks; two long weeks since Jaehwan has been dismissed to his new home. The princess takes much longer to move in, and ends up being five days later than planned. 

He writes a lot of letters for jaehwan, so much that his messenger limits him to three a week, since he can't keep up with the deliveries. 

"Nothing back?" Wonsik asks hopefully when the messenger comes back.

"He gave me this, young master," the messenger holds out a paper crane for him, and bows curtly. 

Wonsik groans; he forgot that Jaehwan doesn't know how to write. They spend so much time together that he hadn't realized that Jaehwan only knows how to read, and that he's never used pen and ink in his life. 

"2 weeks. Does that sound a little desperate?" he mutters to himself, as he flies to the tearoom; his mother should be there around that time. 

"Oh, Wonsik," his mother sets a cup of tea down when he enters the room. Sitting across from her is the princess' mother, his to-be mother-in-law. 

"I need to go visit Jaehwan. I … forgot he doesn't know how to write," Wonsik smiles sheepishly. He hopes it's enough to convince his mother to let him go. 

"Is this about that slave?" his in-law asks coldly. Wonsik wants to turn around and spit in her face. Jaehwan is not a slave. He's his best friend. 

"Writing letters to your own slave... how pathetic." she says with a sigh, putting down her cup as well on the fine wooden table. 

Wonsik wants to throw the hot tea at her, in hopes she'll get burned so badly that even the best doctor won't be able to produce a remedy. He knows an old villager had once gotten caught in a fire, and it's very possible to burn your face off. 

"Sure Wonsik, I'll get the carriage ready for you as soon as I can," his mother smiles warmly. 

"Oh, what a splendid idea! How about you bring him over for dinner, Wonsik? Jaehwan sounds like an amazing person," Wonsik spins around to the source of the voice, and relaxes when he sees Sojin. She's the only thing that has so far kept him going, a temporary remedy from terrible in-laws and losing Jaehwan. 

"I will not allow a slave to dine with us," her mother says sharply. Sojin furrows her eyebrows and plays with the edges of her soft blue dress. 

"Well, maybe you don't need to dine with us tonight then, your majesty," Sojin curtseys, and her lips curve up into a smirk. 

Her mother looks thoroughly flushed, embarrassed more than insulted, as she swiftly finds her way out of the door. 

"Can't wait until she dies. All that inheritance, for you and I, Wonsik dear," Sojin smiles. Wonsik forces a smile back; Sojin is pretty and nice, but she can also be a little intimidating at times. 

\--

He pulls on his winter jacket and double checks the contents of his satchel; he's got a quill and ink, pieces of parchment, a couple of loaves of bread and cheese, and even some custard tarts he sneaked from the kitchen for Jaehwan. 

"Go," he commands, and the carriage surges forward with a bump. He's never been so fond of the carriage, but it's the only form of transportation other than horseback, which is not an option in the middle of the freezing winter.

His face feels numb by the time he gets there, and makes a mental note of not sending the messenger frequently for the next couple weeks; it's far too cold to be outside, he's surprised they haven't had their first snowfall yet. 

"Hello, hello? Prince Wonsik wishes to see you, my lord," his footman calls at the gate. The castle isn't as nice as Wonsik would have preferred, too rocky and grey for his taste. He's waiting for Jaehwan to pop out cheerfully, along with the house owner. They don't though, and Wonsik is forced to go until the main door to knock himself. 

"Excuse me? This is uh, Prince Wonsik..?" it's terribly unnatural to speak in the third person, but it seems to work, since the door flies open a second later and he's met by a wide-eyed servant. 

"Seyeon?" he recognizes her, the small and frail maid that used to so carefully clean their dining table, especially after Wonsik made a mess on it, polishing every corner of the surface until it shined. 

"Young master," she gasps. Wonsik doesn't like what he sees; the person he sees is not Seyeon, not the kind-hearted maid that he knew. She's much skinnier, past the point of skin and bone that he wonders if her veins can get through her body. Her face his pale, with dark circles around her eyes, and her lips broken and bleeding. 

"What happened to you," Wonsik lowers his voice. He doesn't need an explanation to understand what's happening. 

"Please go home young master. Don't come back, just please go home before he comes," she begins to beg, attempting to close the door on him. 

"Seyeon." 

It doesn't take long until she gives up, letting him inside and taking his belongings. 

"Why, isn't this Prince Wonsik! Nice to see you, I haven't seen you since you were a wee little lad," Wonsik's head turns to the source of the gruff, accented voice. 

"Shall I formally introduce myself? Lord Ahn, I haven't been down here for awhile, so please forgive my language," he says with a chuckle. He tilts his head ever so slightly, but doesn't attempt to shift his eyes from Wonsik's. Wonsik hopes he can see he's clearly angry, so he can take back all of his servants as soon as possible. 

"You! Go get Wonsik something warm to drink," he barks at the closest maid, and she scurries fearfully to what Wonsik assumes is as the kitchen. 

"Do you not know your servant's names?" he asks. There's no point to beat around the bush, it's much easier to accuse and finish matters cleanly when you're the future king. 

"Ah, you see, these are a new set of servants from your palace, so it is difficult to remember," the lord drawls, scratching at his fat rolls on his neck. 

"Where is Jaehwan," Wonsik demands. 

"Oh. That boy? He couldn't really obey my orders the other day, so I put him in the barn. Feeding him with plenty of food though. Say, I heard he was the best one at your place, but he can't even tie one's shoe? He began to cry, it was such a pity," he sighs. Wonsik feels his veins pulse loudly in his neck; he threw Jaehwan in the barn because he couldn't tie his shoes? 

"Isn't that a little too harsh of a punishment?" Wonsik grits his teeth. This man has no sense of humanity. 

The lord looks quite amused though, still scratching at his neck. 

"Why, is that so? You seem quite lenient with your servants then," Wonsik cannot believe that the man has the audacity to even laugh at his views. 

"I request to see him," he demands angrily. 

"I'm afraid I cannot, your highness. He is my slave, and I do not permit such things." 

Wonsik clenches his fists. This is not a question. 

"This is an order," he says quietly. Nobody is allowed to disobey royalty.

"I suppose so then. Please, feel free to explore my garden later on as well," Wonsik can't tell if it's sarcasm, but he almost runs to the back door leading to the barn. He goes by instincts, as to where to go, but if Jaehwan is concerned in the problem, Wonsik feels he knows where the other exactly is. 

His voice gives away a feeble croak when he opens the barn doors. 

It's freezing, colder than the temperature outside, and he sees a couple of rats scatter when light reaches the dim insides. He squints and sees a black figure, Jaehwan, huddled in a corner behind the horses. 

"Jaehwan," he calls softly. The body rustles, and all the worry in Wonsik disappears. 

"It's Wonsik. Wake up, let's go home." he offers softly. 

Jaehwan's head perks up. 

"Wonsik?" his voice is cracked, barely audible, but there. 

"Yes. Let's go home," Wonsik moves closer to Jaehwan, and extends a hand. He almost manages to touch Jaehwan's wrist, but the other jerks away at the last second. He's confused, it's the first time Jaehwan as acted like this. 

"Please go home Wonsik. Don't come back," he whispers hoarsely. 

Wonsik doesn't need to be told to know why Jaehwan doesn't want to go home. 

"Where did he hurt you," it's meant to be a question; only, it doesn't quite come out as one. 

Jaehwan turns around, and looks up sorrowfully. His face is terribly pale, cheeks sunken so far to the point Wonsik almost doesn't recognize him. His eyes are hard and cold, the warm cheeriness long gone, and his face is coloured with black and purple bruises. 

His eyes travel down, and he sees a black collar. A collar with a small bell on it's front, old, tattered and digging deep into Jaehwan's flesh. 

"You're coming home," Wonsik says curtly, attempting to grab his wrist for a second time. He succeeds this time, but immediately loosens his grip when Jaehwan whimpers loudly to the contact. 

He slowly lifts up his thin sleeve to reveal another set of bruises, and Wonsik can even make out a couple of cuts that are terribly swollen. 

\--

It's bad enough that he took Jaehwan without permission back to his castle; it was even worse when he got home and was met by his father. 

"Look at what he's doing to jaehwan. I'm never letting him go back, father," Wonsik nearly spits. He's far beyond the point of anger, he almost sees imaginary colourful patterns when he talks. 

"I understand Wonsik. But Lord Ahn rightfully purchased him. I cannot do anything about this, even as the king," his father gives a last apologetic look to Jaehwan before he leaves. The treatment is inhumane, and he pulls at his hair frustratedly. 

"I'm going to buy you back Jaehwan. You can come back," Wonsik delicately grasps at Jaehwan's wrists. It's the only solution, a logical and painless one. 

"I don't think you can do that," Jaehwan whispers. 

"Why not? I'm the prince, I'm allowed to do anything I want-" 

"There are just so many more qualified than me to serve you. I can't even tie your shoes," Jaehwan interrupts him quietly. Wonsik can't believe that Jaehwan has gone far enough to even interrupt his sentence. 

"You don't want to stay, huh?" Wonsik snorts. All the trouble he's gone through, all the time he's spent on writing letters to Jaehwan to perfection is wasted in the single second. It didn't occur to him, not even the slightest bit, that Jaehwan had simply wanted to go explore somewhere else. 

"No, no Wonsik, that's not it," Jaehwan motions to bite his lip, an old habit, but his lips are far too cracked and damaged that it looks more painful to moisten them. 

"You can stay the night. I want you gone by tomorrow," Wonsik says coldly. He spins on his heel and walks directly to the kitchen. He needs to tell them to make something for Jaehwan for the night, and for the way too. Just because his best friend wants to leave him doesn't mean he's not going to play nice. 

\--

He is gone by the next morning, with some of the bread and cheese taken from the table Wonsik set it aside on. He also sees that the apples are gone, as well as the small bits of chocolate he broke apart. 

"You need to eat food, not sweets," he murmurs to himself as he takes the leftover bread and cheese for himself. Jaehwan always liked sweet things, and went crazy when one of the kitchen servants threw chocolate in a pan and began to melt it. 

'are you crazy? you're killing the chocolate!' 

Wonsik can't help but suppress a smile when he remembers Jaehwan's expression when it dawns to him that chocolate tastes just as good liquefied. He takes a bite of the bread, and nibbles at the cheese. 

"Snacking before breakfast? Naughty little boy," Sojin is already dressed in her morning gown, the silky yellow rims sweeping gracefully on the marble floor. 

"Oh. Uh, yea," Wonsik smiles guiltily; he didn't realize he skipped supper last night, he'd have to explain that well to his parents later. 

"Don't worry, your parents have important business so they won't be joining us this morning," Sojin plays with the ends of her hair, picking out invisible things from it. It's as if she's read his mind, and Wonsik doesn't know whether to be pleased with the news or frankly, afraid. 

She takes a step forward, leans close to Wonsik's side; he almost steps back, thinking she would kiss him, but she grabs his arm impatiently and pulls him down. Her sharp nails dig into his flimsy sleeve, and it hurts. 

"Your servant is receiving a public flogging today, I advise you go stop it right now," she whispers fiercely in his ear. 

"What-" 

"As a punishment for running away. In the centre-town square in front of the old butcher's place," her lips almost touch Wonsik, and he can see that her eyes are darting from side to side through his peripheral vision. 

"The carriage is outside, it's waiting for you. Go," she lets go of Wonsik's arm forcefully, pushing him back. A split second later she breaks into a wide smile. 

"See you around!" she says cheerfully, but her piercing gaze tells him otherwise. 

Wonsik stumbles on his feet as he runs down the stairs- Jaehwan receiving public flogging for something he didn't even do. He was wrongly accused, it should be Wonsik himself if anybody is being punished. 

He indeed sees a carriage outside, and flies into it, ignoring the footman. 

"Master Wonsik, your clothes," he says politely as he tries to close the doors. Wonsik looks down and curses; he's still in his white flimsy nightwear, with black shiny shoes that look like a mistake with his outfit. He forgot to take a jacket too in the unbelievably cold weather, but now isn't the time. 

"Just go," his voice wavers, but he doesn't know if it's from the cold freezing him to the limbs, or the thought of Jaehwan getting hurt. 

When he gets there, there's already a small crowd huddled in a circle. He flies off the carriage and attempts to push his way through, afraid that he's too late. 

It's not long until he hears the sound of a whip, and a piercing scream that follows it. It's not Jaehwan's, but he can see an old woman covering her eyes beside him. Wonsik finally succeeds to get to the front, and he wants to throw up to the sight. 

Jaehwan is tied to a wooden post, stripped naked as his wrists are tightly bound with ropes. Wonsik can't tell if he's shaking because of the cold or the last whip he took, but he can't care less. 

"Stop," he yells angrily. He sees Lord Peterson pause momentarily, but his arm is quick to flick another gash upon Jaehwan's back. 

"I command you to stop," he says louder this time, but it noticeably cracks. Jaehwan's breathing is shallow, he barely sees white puffs coming from his mouth. 

"He's my slave. I punish him however I would like to," Lord Ahnreplies cruelly, and the whip descends again. Jaehwan let's out a painful cry this time, and Wonsik's eyes water. It's brutal, the gashes that run down his back are too deep for any old medicine to fix, and it would be difficult to find a doctor to be able to mend the cuts. 

Jaehwan's knees give away, along with his whole body. Wonsik's freezes, his fingertips feeling much icier than a split second before. His heart climbs to his mouth, he's about to vomit- 

"Jaehwan," he bellows. it startles the crowd, and it startles himself as well. He's never heard such a horrid sound come out of his own mouth, but it's the least of his concerns when he sees the bastard raise the whip once more. 

He's not thinking, his legs feel numb, but somehow he manages to bring himself to shield Jaehwan's back. 

The whip comes down and Wonsik bites hard on his tongue, he thinks it's going to split in half. The pain is excruciating, and he can feel his silk night shirt stick to his back. 

He decides it's nothing compared to Jaehwan when he looks down at the marks made; there are more than 10 hideous gashes that Wonsik can make out, and his eyes sting to think of how Jaehwan could even bear it. 

"Whipping a prince?" Wonsik manages to say, his breath turning uneven and ragged. He hunches over, but there's no doubt he's in a higher position- his eyes are strong, just like how his father taught them to be, and Lord Ahn’s nose turns up to form a nasty scowl. 

"I order arrest for life," Wonsik bares his teeth. He's a prince, he's allowed to make such decisions. 

"All your servants come back to me," he says furthermore, but that's really all he can manage. The cold air seeps through his new wound, and it feels like a thousand sharp paper cuts attacking his back simultaneously. 

"I'm afraid not, your highness," Lord Ahn’s lips curl up, and Wonsik is flying back when a fist meets his face. 

He's lying on the ground groaning to the white hot pain; rocks digging into his back, and he swears his nose is broken. His eyes are filled with tears, and he can see a couple of people dragging Jaehwan away. Dragging him on his back, along the dusty hard ground. Wonsik crawls on his knees, following the trail of blood to Lord Ahn’s castle.

His knees are scratched and his wound is filled with small rocks and dust. He can't lift himself up, he doesn't have physical not mental power to do so. His everything hurts; head spinning, body aching, heart throbbing. It's only a matter of time until he gets to the barn- he doesn't know he he managed to get there but he does somehow, and he's panting to open the door. 

Wonsik sees Jaehwan chained up to a wooden post, still stark naked. He shivers, it's probably well below freezing, and just looking at Jaehwan's sickly pale body makes him want to gag. The horrible people that turned his best friend into a victim of power will feel his wrath later.

For now though, Wonsik rushes to lift Jaehwan onto his lap. His arms become bloodied- he forgets Jaehwan is still bleeding- and he does his best to wrap his wounds with whatever he could tear off his own shirt. 

"Wonsik," Jaehwan calls feebly. Wonsik lies him down on his side, letting Jaehwan's head rest on his lap. He keeps a hand over Jaehwan's to maintain the balance, but really, it's for his own reassurance. 

"You'll be okay. Help is on the way, got it?" Wonsik says assuringly. He knows there's no way help is coming unless it has been reported to the city guards, which he highly doubts, but he just needs a little time to rest before he can bring Jaehwan back. 

"Just wait a little longer." he runs his fingers through Jaehwan's hair. It's hard, as if glued together, and his hands are black when he brings it back up. He runs his trembling fingers down again through Jaehwan's matted hair. 

"Jaehwan," he mutters. The pain in his back has noticeably receded, all he cares about is if he can feel warmth running within Jaehwan's body. He feels a faint pulse at his wrist, faint but there, as an indication of Jaehwan trying his best to hang on. 

"Hang on, I know you can. You're the best friend of the future king, Jaehwan. You're tough," Wonsik's voice breaks, as tears begin to slide down his cheeks. Jaehwan's breathing is shallow, his chest barely moving with it. 

"You're strong Jaehwan. Come on," Wonsik can't lose hope. He wants to go get help, but he's afraid of losing Jaehwan while he's gone. He knows chances are slim, but if he just believes- 

"Can," a broken whisper comes from Jaehwan, and Wonsik leans closer to hear him. His spine arches to the horrid pain that spreads across his back, but he only thinks of listening to what jaehwan has to say. 

"Sing for me?" although Jaehwan's voice is barely audible, he manages to catch it. 

"Sing? I can't sing for my life, Jaehwan," he's going to be driven to insanity, he thinks. Salty tears stream down to his chapped lips and it stings. 

"Wonsik.." it's a ghostly breath from Jaehwan, but it's enough to send Wonsik to bite the insides of his cheeks. He can't be weak now, not when Jaehwan is like this. 

He makes up a tune, as he begins to hum.

"Lyrics," jaehwan says after a while. Wonsik blinks back more tears. 

"I know this fellow, who is a really good fellow," Wonsik sings ridiculous lyrics to a ridiculous tune, as his voice wavers to every syllable. 

"He's my best friend, we spend loads of time together," he continues. His grasp against Jaehwan's arm grows tighter. 

"He's all one can ask for, pretty personality, a kind soul," Wonsik's chest constricts as he struggles to take a breath. His throat closes up as jaehwan's neck is attacked by wetness dripping from his own chin. 

"Beautiful voice, better than mine," Jaehwan's arm grows cold, colder than before. He rubs it desperately to warm him up. 

"Always there to catch my fall, never can make a day without you," Wonsik's chest heaves. Jaehwan's turned his head so he can see him, and he's looking straight up at him with glassy eyes. Tears are running down as well, and Wonsik can tell he's trying to smile. 

"But he- he's going to make it, for sure, s-so we can spend eternity together," Jaehwan's smile grows bigger, Wonsik's words grow thicker. 

"With my queen, he'll play with my children and teach them to sing-" 

Wonsik's feels Jaehwan's head shake on his lap. 

"We'll all live happily-" 

It's barely a tune anymore, Wonsik's not even attempting to hold himself together anymore. 

"Jaehwan," he says, his hand finding Jaehwan's frozen ones. 

Jaehwan's smile is the widest he's seen it. 

'thank you' he sees him mouth. 

Wonsik is there to feel Jaehwan's hand go limp in his own.

thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> here’s my end notes from when i wrote it as well: 
> 
> done so wow 
> 
> I'm doing like medieval study now I guess in socials, and idk I guess it inspired me to write smth when we got to the slavery section. 
> 
> I really got emotional when I wrote the last bit when jaehwan (dies), I had to stop from time to time, even if it's like 8 lines long. 
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this, I'm not going to be writing any more after this, maybe possibly an epilogue. it was a good week with this story, and I'm going to move on from this death to another happier story. really traumatized myself, I've been sniffling for half an hour. 
> 
> thanks y'all 
> 
> (honestly i cringed reading that but yes, thank you for reading! upon reading this again i actually got super sad once more, which is why i decided to repost instead of rewriting it. thank you again!!!!!)


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